


Breaking the Cycle

by Ernutet



Series: The Adventures of Young Daniel Jackson [5]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family/Domestic situations, Gen, Kidfic, Smarm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 01:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1286851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ernutet/pseuds/Ernutet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’ve been eight already. Nothing good comes out of being eight.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking the Cycle

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I wrote this short piece in 2006, for the celebration of Daniel’s birthday on the International Little Daniel List, and published it later on my website under the title “In the Candlelight”. It was always meant to be a short scene in a longer series, and now it finally got its deserved place. Slightly altered to fit in the story, but, to my chargrin, it didn’t want to get much longer than the original.
> 
> You need to be familiar with both Daniel and Jack's pasts to understand this little piece. Oh, and I've been told it needs a hanky warning.
> 
> \---
> 
> A/N: This odyssey had begun way back in 2006 on the International Little Daniel List at Yahoo Groups, and continues to this day. What can I say, my LD Muse is an elusive creature.
> 
> Firstly imagined as a classical chaptered story, it turned out into a series of short stories, sometimes ficlets, starting with an event which changed Daniel's life into something completely different, and yet not neccessarily worse.
> 
> Each part of this series is a stand-alone glimpse into Daniel's new life.
> 
> SETTING: Lets say season 9, because Jack is a General. Consider everything past s.9. AU.
> 
> SPOILERS: everything up to s.9, though nothing specific ... probably some mention of Meridian events, FIAD, COTG ... generally, if you don't watch SG-1, you'll be spoiled.
> 
> My eternal thanks goes to Anne (Annejackdanny) for doing both alpha and beta on this, for hand-holding and cheerleading.... for YEARS. You rock, lady!
> 
> Any and all mistakes left are exclusively mine.

**_July 2005  
_ **

 

There were eight of them. Thin and tall, stretching their flickering flames up and up. 

There should’ve been forty. Or at least those number-candles which could keep a cake from falling apart from too numerous holes. 

Forty. Not eight. 

The silence would had been complete if not for the barely heard crackling sound of burning candles and his own and Jack’s breathing. 

He made the last several steps that brought him to the table. 

Jack was sitting on the other side of it, watching silently with such understanding in his eyes that Daniel thought he might cry. 

“I’m forty”. _And wasn’t that a crazy statement? A little kid - forty years old?_

“I know.” For some reason, Jack’s voice sounded hollow, echoing in this silent night. 

“I’ve been eight already. Nothing good comes out of being eight.” _Why was he telling this to Jack? Why burdening his friend with even more of his personal emotional baggage?_

“I know.” 

Daniel thought his hearing was a little off. Jack’s voice didn’t sound firm or steady. Something in him was starting to break; something old and almost forgotten. Something Daniel thought he’d never encounter again, after he tucked it away securely after that Gamekeeper...incident. 

“I can’t do this.” A whisper, battling that thing inside of him. 

“Yes, you can. It’s different, not what you’ve expected, I know...but it is and we’ll deal with it the best we can... Kid-stuff 101, remember? ” Jack’s voice was quiet and hoarse. But his eyes were seeing into Daniel’s very soul. 

“It’s _eight_ years. Nothing good comes after eight years!” _Where was this coming from? What *were* they talking about here?_

A feeling of warmth was slowly spreading over Daniel’s face, but he didn’t move, didn’t raise his hand to wipe away the tears. 

Jack was moving though, getting up and slowly approaching him, crouching down and boring into his eyes with his own laser-sharp brown pools of all-knowing. Jack’s arm drifted upwards and his hand gently, so gently stroked the wet cheek. 

“It’s okay...it’s not the same...there’s one big difference, after these eight....”. 

Jack was almost whispering, but Daniel had heard him clearly. “We both know eight is the line! What’s so different now?” 

Through the teary mist he thought he saw Jack smile. 

“ _I’m_ here.” A few simple words bringing an amazing revelation. And something inside Daniel finally broke free. 

He felt himself being gathered into a warm, soothing embrace, and he buried his face into Jack’s shoulder, giving up on fighting that _thing_ which raged once more - and hopefully for the last time. 

  **%%%%%%%%%%**

A couple of hours later they were sitting on the couch, several thick, hard bound albums spread over the coffee table amidst the used napkins and plates with cake leftovers. Both Jack and Daniel had an album nestled in their respective laps. A photo of a sandy haired laughing boy was peeking from underneath Jack’s almost-caressing hand resting on it, while Daniel’s finger gently swept over the black and white photos in the album he held. 

“... and this was near Saqarra, we had a camp there, the dig was a huge one, next to the pyramid - see, it’s a step pyramid, not like those in Gizeh - and this is Mom talking to Mahmdi, the overseer of the dig, and this is Dad, he was climbing down into...”

Circles and space-time ripples and forks on the Fate’s way, oh my! Jack thought, almost hearing the clicks and feeling the shifts as some things mended within both Daniel and him. That yellow brick road could show up in many different widths and lenghts, and it sometimes had bumps and holes in it, but if you watched your step, you could always get to the end, whatever the end was. 

“...and this is me, all floppy sandy hair and no glasses, see?...” 

**Author's Note:**

> All comments are welcome.


End file.
